Razen's Random Rants
by BrazenVulpine
Summary: If Fanfictions were movies, this would be a collection of clips. I won't tell you what you'll find here, but it's mostly based on stuff from the games, y'know, PMD and stuff. Reviews are appreciated more than favourites, but I won't force you to it.
1. Library

"What's this?" Sorrow slowly sifted out an old manuscript out of the ancient trunk, sending up small plumes of dust as he lifted it out of the chest. He put it on the table and blew on the cover, sending dust floating into the air. He narrowed his eyes, or whatever he had that passed for them, as he read the title, which was written as simply 'History.' Sorrow opened the cover and flipped through the pages, not sure when it was he was looking for. Finding a page marked with a bold illustration of a blue nine-tailed fox, he stopped and read the text beside it.

"Team Blue-vixen! If the records are to be believed, during the time of its existence, one could walk from Brine Cave all the way to Shimmer Hill without incident. By the time of its third anniversary, it had saved the world from destruction twice, it had enough members to be a top-level guild, and legendaries had begun to join the ranks. Five years later, they were indisputably number one in the world, and even the Federation no longer wielded much authority. Under the hand of their commander, Caleb, and his partner, Carmine, the team chartered the entire continent, leaving no stone unturned and no dungeon unexplored. It is said that in Treasure Town, where they made their base, gold flowed like water and silver was used like wood. Team Blue-vixen! In their days, a child's dream was to join their ranks. Team Blue-vixen! Wherever they went, they were held in awe. Team Blue-vixen! Under their rule, escort missions were abolished. Ah, yes, Team Blue-vixen!

"…But this period of wealth and luxury was relatively short. When Caleb finally died from old age, things carried on for a while, under the hand of his second son, Darren. However, Darren proved to be a less righteous 'mon than his father, and fled the town three months after Caleb's death, carrying much of the team's treasure hoard with him. Filled with grief and anger, Team Blue-vixen tracked Darren down and easily captured him, but not before he had hidden most of the hoard. When asked as to its whereabouts, he cryptically answered 'I only know of half of it,' with an ironic smile on his face. After the matter of Darren was settled and his sentence was decided, the interior of Blue-vixen's base hummed with speculation as to where the missing treasure was. This ultimately destroyed Team Blue-vixen, as greed slowly overcame sense in their searches and the component teams slowly turned on each other. In less than a year, all that was left of Team Blue-vixen was Carmine and her group of close confidents, including several legendaries who hadn't deserted. This remnant continued to function for a brief time, but the grief and sorrow heaped upon Carmine's head eventually brought her down with an incurable illness. Several teams were sent to the Miracle Sea for the all-healing Phione Dew, but they returned too late; with her dying breath, Caleb's wife had disbanded Team Blue-vixen."

He smiled. The passage had been transcribed so many times that the original text no longer remained, but Sorrow had found his starting point. [So that's what happened after I died,] he thought, amused. [Darren, a Lucario after my own heart. I bet you were surprised when you found all the best stuff in the hoard gone, eh?] He continued to flip through the pages, trying to find out where that era occurred on the timeline. For several minutes, there was no sound but the crinkling of pages. Then Sorrow closed the book. [Whatever, this is a library, right? I'll just take it with me.] he thought, putting the book to the side. [Now, I wonder, if I shake the money tree more, will I find more gold?] Sorrow laughed quietly to himself, digging through the ancient trunk once again.


	2. Kill, Kill, Kill

_Kill, Kill, Kill_

-0-

I stood at the base of a gray cliff, surrounded by the dead bodies of Parichisu, which were strewn about like so many leaves. The edge of my cloak fluttered in the wind as I traveled over the ground, carelessly passing over the bloody forms of the white squirrels. I was moving toward the cave at the base of the cliff, when I noticed a survivor, hiding behind a stalagmite in the cave mouth. I stopped and stared at the young Parichisu through the rock, considering. I caressed his mind, seeking to know who he was, what he doing.

His name was Carry. He had lived in and around Faren Cavern for all his life, living with his family, his friends, never thinking beyond the bounds of his home. He had watched as the stranger entered his clan's territory, knowing that he would die for trespassing on their land. He had watched, shocked, as the stranger, shrouded in a brown, threadbare cloak, unmercifully slaughtered everyone he'd ever known. Realizing that the stranger was coming towards the cave, he readied himself to avenge his friends, his family, and the pride of his clan. He thought a surprise attack might do the trick, as none of the other Parichisu had gotten close enough to do anything before death found them. He staved off grief for his fellows for the time being, instead, he focused on the cloak's cowl, searching for the face of his tribe's murderer.

Carry was a strong person.

But he had never met someone like I.

I searched through his memories one more time, and got an idea. A terrible, cruel, viscous idea. I resumed walking, altering my course slightly so I passed over the face of Carry's older brother, whom I recognized from the young Parichisu's memories. The edge of my cloak brushed over his brother's face, and again as I passed it. However, his face was no longer there. Where it had been was only seamless white fur, no trace of nose, eyes or mouth remaining. I continued walking, not breaking pace. I made sure to walk between Carry and his brother's body, obscuring the Parichisu's view of the disturbing anomaly. I reached the cave mouth, walking past the stalagmite where the young avenger was hidden. Just as he raised his paws, summoning a large Thunder attack, I turned my head to him, letting Carry see inside the cowl. He froze, half of his electricity evaporating from shock.

"Brother?" he said incredulously, confusion thick in his words.

In that instant, I struck, a slew of darkness spreading out from the bottom of my cloak, swiftly smothering the Parichisu in malevolent shadows. He struggled briefly, sparks dancing in the air along the black mass, but those slowed, and then stopped completely. The shroud of darkness slowly dissolved, spreading across the floor, coalescing into black spots, then vanishing into cracks, as if they had never been.

I stared at the empty spot where Carry had stood just moments before, my senses coming back to me. I then looked up from the stalagmite, glancing over the carcasses of Parichisu, the only sign that the Dynamo Tribe had ever existed. I sighed, infinitely regretful. Frowning at the scene of carnage one last time, I turned and walked into the cave, wondering whether I would ever find something that could stand up to me.

Probably not.

-0-

Annnnd, that was Sorrow the Sableye, the horrendously overpowered treasure hoarder!

He'll be one of the main characters for a series I'll do one of these days.

By the by, this was inspired by the song _DVBBS - DRVGS (Klaypex Remix)._

This was rather gruesome, was it not? It'll probably be the last, maybe.

Actually, maybe not, since Sorrow and Kino the Riolu are both irrevocably tied to bloody violence, but I can promise you none in any Views of the Sky stories or in that one with the trainer and the Buneary.

Anyhoo, bye!

Signed, BrazenVulpine~


	3. Click

"Click, clickity click."

The soft noises echoed throughout the empty room. In the center, a figure in a lab coat worked on a keyboard. The only source of light was the soft glow of the screen in front of him, making the rest of the room darkly indistinct.

"Click, click click."

It was a lab, albeit a small one. Thick metal walls were much in evidence, and the floor was covered in spilled substances. Some had become dried and stuck there – the place had not been cleaned in a very long time.

"Click click tack."

Machines lined the walls, some with dials and others with switches or little screens, all black now. Where the scientist was was a pillar of sorts, striking down from the ceiling. At hip level, keyboards stuck out, and corresponding screens were fixed above them. There were four sets, one for each side.

The pillar was the central server. The port the man used faced the only door, metal like the walls.

"Click, click tack."

The side opposite to the door was clear of machinery. Half the wall – the upper half – had been cut away to make room for a window looking into the next room. Nothing could be seen there, only one or two flickering spots of light in the darkness. If not for those, one could have taken the window for a strange black patch on the wall.

"Tack tack tack."

The typing slowed as the document neared its end, and the scientist finished with a loud _clack _as he hit the Enter key. He let out a breath. The night was not young. He stood for a moment, knuckling his back, before he turned to his left and walked to one of the machines by the wall. His shoes made soft squeaking noises as he crossed the floor.

The man fiddled with a pair of dials near the top of the rectangular machine, and dim light flooded the lab. He blinked slightly, and looked towards the window on the far side of the room. The other room, the one on the other side of the glass, was lit. He folded his arms behind his back and strode to the glass, surveying the room beyond.

Its walls were much like the lab's, but paneled instead of seamless. Thick cables snaked across the ground and climbed along the ceiling, converging on what lay at the end of the room – a tank of orange liquid, identical to the one that had held Mewtwo nearly a decade ago. The purple kangaroo was not the occupant of this tank, indeed, it had long outgrown it. Instead, a pale green humanoid sat suspended in the slightly bubbly liquid. Its eyes were closed, and nearly transparent fairy wings sprouted from its back. All in all, its colours spoke of Celebi, but its shape spoke of a human.

"Cele- Celebeta." The scientist frowned and cleared his throat. "Celebeta. Those three months of searching will be paid off, I hope, when you wake. If my calculations are correct, however, you lost your ability to time travel in the third flux. I suspected that would happen, but it was a thing to hope against nonetheless." He paused. "You shall certainly be—"

As he talked a beep sounded, derailing his train of thought. The man turned to the machine directly to his left and pushed the largest button. Lights and screens lit up around the room, bathing it all in a multicolored glow. He flipped switches, turned dials clockwise, then counter-clockwise. In the tank, the orange liquid became paler, then thicker. The Celebeta's skin became a different shade of green, and its color on the whole could no longer be called uniform. Its antennae stretched and brushed against the top of the tank, the back of its head split and large, pink petals pushed out, forming a tentative blossom. Its body grew thorns in some places, slips of pink appeared around its eyes. Other changes were also in evidence, too many to describe.

The scientist stopped his frenzy of button-pushing and switch-flipping, and turned the dial one last time before turning back to the window. He stared at the giant green fairy, and after a few moments, golden irises stared back.


	4. Meloetta

Anyone here familiar with Fuse Corp?

-0-

_I am grateful to whichever scientist at Fuse Corp who deigned to share this lovely strand of DNA. Not only has his or her actions given me the opportunity to study a Pokémon who's existence I was previously unaware of, it has also brought endless hours of fun and laughter to the lab. _

_I speak; of course, of the sample I have christened M170, the Meloetta strand. I admit that when I first received it in the mail I was skeptical,_ _but skepticism turned to delight as I fed it into my supercomputer. Wasting no time, I cloned the strand twice, for later examination, and fed the original into a machine for the fertilization process. I waited for two hours; my machines are more efficient than the ones at Fuse Corp. The little ding came when I was drinking a third cup of coffee and I rushed to the tanks. _

_There, hanging suspended was a little black and white creature, not unlike an oversized porcelain doll wearing black dress. Long green tresses spilled down it's (she's?) shoulders, and a black, headset-like ornament stood flat against one side of the Pokémon's head. It was without a doubt a Pokémon that I had not seen before. Idly, I wondered where the unknown scientist had come across the DNA sample. Was it frozen? A fossil? Or had they finally mastered the level of technology needed to make their own Pokémon? Whatever the case, I was glad they had not kept it from me._

_Once I was certain the creature was 'complete,' I removed the wires and lifted it from its tank. I set it down on one of the padded trolleys and pushed it out of the lab – waking up among Fusemon in the midst of their splicing process would not be pleasant for any newborn. I put it in the entranceway, and sat down while I waited for it to wake._

_While I waited, I scanned the Pokémon further, and found that its mouth was made for more complicated movements and human-level articulation – this creature would be able to talk, no animalistic grunting._

_I also noticed that its neural cavity was roughly the size of a human's, and estimated that once it fully grown, its intelligence would be around that of a young adult, though perhaps with a more childish mindset. _

_Lastly, and possibly most importantly, the creature had a certain…taste…to it. Perhaps that is inaccurate, but then, I am trying to describe the sixth sense in a world where most beings only have five. _

_The 'taste,' or maybe 'aura,' surrounding and pervading the newborn was like music. Not the old, rigid forms, orchestra and the like, but that which is popular in the modern era – specifically, ones with vocals. _

_Any more speculation on my part was temporally suspended as the creature let out a soft noise and opened its eyes for the first time. I jumped up and was transfixed by a pair of large turquoise irises. I gently picked up the Pokémon and cradled it in my arms, the way I would an infant. _

_It eventually tore its gaze from me and looked at the rest of the room, still with that wide-eyed look. I had to smile. In a minute or two I would walk over to the intercom on the wall and get some Moomoo Milk for the child, but for then, I just wanted to hold the little thing – a newborn was always a pleasure for me._

_Over the next two days, the creature's growth was startling. So much so, in fact, that I would hazard a guess and say that it must be a Legendary. While Ashley played with the child – although by the way it's been growing, we won't be able to call it child for long – I examined the creature's DNA strand, and cross-referenced it against the clones of the one I had received from Fuse Corp. If I hadn't made a mistake, and I rarely do, the strands were subtly different from each other. How, I did not know, but I was willing to find out._

_I mixed the embryo for another Meloetta (that was the first word out of the creature's mouth, and since it's the tendency of articulate Pokémon to repeat their names, it's likely the name of the species) and was unclipping it from the microscope when I did something very unlike me – I made a mistake. _

_I would have missed it if not for my psychic abilities. A piece of dirt slipped from my coat sleeve and into the petri dish, landing near dead-center of the fluid. I would suppose that it had come from the Ruins of Alph, as I had been there just the day before I had received the Meloetta DNA. _

_I came as close to aggravated as I could, and I almost upended the petri dish in the sink. Catching myself at the last moment, I turned and slotted it back into the magnifying glass, and checked to see if it could be saved._

_Instead of finding a shriveling mess as I had expected, I found something entirely surprising. The strands around the speck of dirt were changing, very subtly. Within the minute, the embryo was not only distinctly different from what it had been before; it had also absorbed the dirt into its genetic make-up. _

_The embryo was still very much alive, so I did what any other scientist would do – I continued the fertilization process, and hoped that whatever emerged wouldn't be a disfigured sin against nature, as was probable. _

_Once again, I was pleasantly surprised. Perhaps even a little shocked. What emerged was not only __**not **__a disfigured sin against nature; it was a whole different Pokémon than the first Meloetta. But then, I may be exaggerating. The new Meloetta – I assumed it was a Meloetta, despite the differences – was slightly different from the first. It had the same white skin and black dress, but its hair was a dusky orange, and gathered up on its head the way ladies of the court once wore it. The headset-like ornament was set at the top of the gather, set like a treble clef at the beginning of a staff. When I pulled it from the tank and put it on the trolley, I realized that the 'aura' or 'taste' that surrounded it was different, too. It was like that of an orchestra playing a major piece, or maybe like a dancer on a stage, living life to the fullest. All in all, it was a different type of music from the green Melloetta's – where that one had tasted like the music of a modern age, the orange one tasted like the music of an era gone by, but fondly remembered._

_As I stared at the orange Meloetta (it hadn't woken yet) I began to wonder what had happened with the dirt. I had never seen an embryo react in such a manner, absorbing an outside object into its molecular make-up, changing the end product into something dissimilar from the original. Further testing must be undertaken. I began to think that perhaps it might react in the same manner to another item – say, a fragment of a leaf, or a piece of ice. By the time the orange Meloetta opened its even oranger eyes to the world, I had resolved to test my theory with a fragment of a conductor's baton. By the next day, there was a yellow-haired Meloetta running around the lab. And on the next, around five were jumping around, with four in the nursery. _

_On the tenth Meloetta, I had a very nasty surprise. For this one I had mixed in a piece of an unfinished orchestral work. The resulting creature had unassuming gray hair, and a blood-red gem on her (by this point, I had come to the conclusion that all Meloetta were female) forehead. I rolled the trolley into one of the padded chambers built to hold unruly Fusemon, as had become my habit after the seventh Meloetta, who had managed to smash a hole in the wall (with the trolley, no less!). _

_The little, gray-haired creature was dead silent one moment, throwing the steel trolley at me the next. I was shocked by the sudden violent action, but quickly reacted and stepped back through the door, closing it behind me. The Meloetta screamed and pounded the thing, but it didn't so much as shake – some of my Fusemon were quite powerful, and I needed to keep them in._

_I monitored that creature's thoughts and neural patterns for two hours, eventually coming to the conclusion that this was its normal behaviour. It wasn't mad, or crazy, and its genetic code was sound – so why was it so obviously insane? Its regular neural pulses decreed that its sanity was sound, but how could that be, when it acted as though it had snapped? It was inordinate, so much so that I would have studied it endlessly were it not so disturbing. I eventually had to put it down – it had cut its hands to shreds, smashing that table, and was clearly a danger as much to itself as to others._

_Two days later, I realized I had gotten carried away. I had proven my theory a long time ago; added objects __**did **__shift the genetic structure of Meloetta embryos. But I had continued on, making more and more._

_I did a count, 28 Meloetta, in all colours, tastes of music and stages of growth. I made the best of it and accepted that I was responsible for their being, and thus for their welfare. I aided them in their interests, and taught them to speak the human language. Ah, what fun it is, teaching them music classes. If they were human, they would have extraordinary talent. As it is, I have come to expect perfection and more from them on that subject. _

_The original Meloetta, whom I have christened the Aria Form, has nearly grown to her full size. It seems that I was correct in my assumption that Meloetta are Legendary, for only those mature so quickly. I feel like a proud parent, and that feeling is multiplied by twenty-eight as I stare over the heads of my class. In all technicalities, they are my children. I am glad I forgot myself and made so many – I've not had so much fun in years! _

…_That may have been an unintended slight against my Pokémon. I am sorry, friends, but can you even accompany those music-loving Meloetta for one hour and not agree with me?_

…

_It has just occurred to me that I have not felt the sun's rays for nearly a week. My underground base lets in a certain amount of light, but the lab is in the basement, and I have been crouching here too long. I think I will head to the surface on the 'morrow, spend a day in the sun. It will do me good._

_Perhaps some of the Meloetta would like to come with me, or perhaps not. Only Aria and the orange one, whom I have christened the Pirouette Form, have shown so much as a medium of maturity so far. Maybe that goes too far, but the others are still but children. I fear that if I took all of them, they would get either frightened or entirely too excited. All in all, it would give me a headache to have that many children to look after. The lab and upper terrace is one thing, the streets of Saffron quite another. It would be best to introduce them slowly to the outside world, preferably one or two at a time, as soon as each one starts showing the end of their growth._

_Yes, tomorrow, I will show Aria and Pirouette Saffron City, and other places as well._

…_I think I'll have eggs benedict for breakfast. Yes, that sounds fine._


	5. Tick

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

Sorrow stared at the small metal clock in his palm, feeling the vibrations as the hour hand and the minute hand, at precisely the same instant, clicked onto the twelve. He sighed – it was noon. This was the hour that he didn't dare go outside, when the sun was at its peak. Normally, the Sableye could shrug off the effects of sunlight. To others of his kind, though, if it was not lethal, it was often close. For him, the sun just made him feel itchy.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

But at this time, the sun's rays turned vertical, and the earth sucked up the heat they brought like a sponge. It was a time for the living. Not quite the antithesis of his existence, but close enough that he avoided it the best he could. The Malaise Caverns were his home for a single hour, every day.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

But was there to do, in his caverns? Sorrow used the area as a storeroom of sorts, walking through a certain wall and depositing his loot in a pocket of stone. The pocket was rather full, now. 50 feet was only so big, even when he was still a Lucario. He was immortal now, and his endless troves of valuables now had to be _squeezed _into that pocket. He'd only been back for two years! How did items always stack up so quickly? It was that way even when he was the commander for the Blue-vixens.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

But that brought him away from his original question. What was he to do in this one hour a day? Sort items? A useless pastime – he seldom had need of any item. Or perhaps…study? A good quarter of his trophies were unknown. Locked away, their abilities were eventually forgotten, or reduced to myth inseparable from rumors. One of the Sableye's reasons for becoming a phantom in the first place was to study the things that he'd found, but didn't want to waste his lifetime cataloguing. That reason was actually part of a large one – he'd just needed more time for everything, period.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

He smiled at the clock. But he had all the time he wanted, now, didn't he? Maybe he should take a look through the back of the old closet. He could start with those musical instruments – those were near the bottom, as they had been one of the first things Sorrow had retrieved when he'd been restored.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

He'd tested the Seven Treasures, of course, but the ones that'd come after…he'd never done a thorough check. He should. He would.

Tick, tick, tick,_** crock**_…

The Sableye smiled at the clock again. He wouldn't check the instruments, then.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

But then, he would, wouldn't he?

Tick, _**crock**_… … …

He wouldn't check them.

Tick, tick, tick…

He would.

Tick, _**crock**_… … …

Oh…

Now that was interesting.


End file.
